My Brother's Keeper
by ReignofTera02
Summary: Amelia spent over one hundred years running from the Mikaelson, only for her brothers ask her to spy on the very enemies she wanted to avoid.


**CHAPTER 1**

 **\- A New Dawn -**

There was something liberating about New Orleans.

Of course that could be ascribed to the fact she had spent two years in Oregon. Strange enough for a vampire but even stranger for her. What had been an impressive thirty years escaping an original, she was now walking right into the lion's den. Actually, she was strutting in, waving a red flag and yelling the name Mikaelson. Okay not to that extent but it was practically a suicide mission.

Only, she would not be doing this, were it not important.

It also helped that her arrival was met with a vibrant parade and loud jazz music. Almost like they were welcoming her.

"Beads?"

Someone asked but before she could answer, the colorful necklaces were placed over her. That and the excited cheers the crowd made, elicited her playfulness. Briefly, she considered following the parade but the nervous glances from the 'palm reader' stopped her in her tracks. The beads now hung heavy around her neck and anxious eyes darted towards the sky and the great ball of fire daring her to make the wrong move.

Thankfully, her bewilderment was interrupted with her phone ringing. "Better be worth my time," she answered after seeing the familiar contact pop up.

"Just checking in"

She continued to walk but slowed her steps. Occasionally casting her eyes on the older woman's pretense as a fortune teller. "Nothing's changed since we talked, five minutes ago" she muttered, huffing in annoyance.

"Have you seen him?"

Taking another survey of her surroundings, she answered. "Seems like I beat him here"

"Oh and heads up"

She paused, not pressing END CALL. "Listening…"

"Elijah's on his way"

The news dampened her mood and once again she had to fight against the anger threatening her bloodlust. "What about Barbie?" she sighed, diverting her attention.

"Yet to be seen. Just keep me posted"

"Then stop calling!"

With that she ended the call. Her attention now fixated on the two men laughing. She watched as they playfully shoved each other until disappearing into what looked like a bar.

Vampires.

Not being discreet either as one jumped from the iron balcony.

Rousseau's.

It wasn't the first time either. She'd caught others running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. On arrival, she'd watched others being pushed off the edge. Fighting and speeding around in their natural superhuman state. The lapis lazuli rings were also a dead giveaway.

All of it confirmed the rumors that had gone around.

New Orleans belonged to the creatures of the night. All of which were ruled by a nameless notorious vampire leading and creating more ruthless monsters. It also helped to explain the submissive state of the witches – something she was very curious about.

If what she had heard was true, no doubt would it be easy to spot the one who wore the crown. She didn't exactly have a starting point so anywhere was as good as any. And with that decisive thought in mind, she started towards the diner-bar.

Vampire city = no vervain.

If she was lucky, she wouldn't have to stay for too long.

Scotch in hand, king in sight, she smiled victoriously.

Rather than make her move, she turned on her stool and leaned against the counter. Crossing her legs, she watched and listened as the overcrowded booth interacted.

It was easy to spot the royal highness.

King Marcellus Gerard.

His 'friends' though playful, spoke with respect and seemed to naturally submit to him.

"You goin' up tonight?" the one named Diego asked, gesturing towards the stage. Currently, it was occupied with two intoxicated college girls who belted out a deafening version of Ain't No Mountain High Enough. It was as terrible as it was amusing.

The 'king' straightened up and smirked. "Depends on my prize"

"Dealer's choice" Diego vowed. "The lovely Anita or her frisky best friend Kelsi"

Marcel heartily stroked his chin, pondering over the decision but the mischief spoke volumes. "Both very good choices but…I choose option C, both"

"Selfish bastard" Diego laughed, throwing back a shot and hissing.

He seemed to be the only one who even attempted teasing his master. The other – Jerry got a few in but mostly laughed along with the rest.

It wasn't long before their king was on stage. Confidence radiated from the second he stepped up and grabbed the microphone. A familiar beat sprang to life and the song became only identifiable when he started singing.

" _Now there was a time,  
When you loved me so.  
I couldn't do wrong,  
And now you need to know"_

After finishing her drink, she decided it was time.

Slipping out of the leather jacket, she tossed it aside and gracefully wove through the crowd. Mid-way their gazes locked and she couldn't deny how for a cocky bastard, he was handsome. From the appreciative once over he gave her, she knew the attraction was mutual.

Maybe it was the three glasses of scotch, being here on someone else's orders or the fact that he was singing a song from one of her favorite bands, but suddenly she felt reckless.

" _See, I been a bad bad bad bad man.  
And I'm in deep"_

He leaned towards her and she pushed up on her tip toes. With his head bowed, they were inches apart and she could smell the richness of his cologne.

" _So how you like me now?  
How you like me now?"_

She hitched a brow at him.

He continued to dance along to the beat. His once simple moves became more complicated and once the chorus was done he winked.

Patiently she watched his routine and caught his growing smugness as he drew to a close.

" _Does that make you love me baby? Does that make you want me baby?"_

This time he failed at suppressing his laughter. His amusement growing as he continued the lyrics.

Once the drummer overdid his (impressive) drum solo, Marcel jumped off the stage. Once again they were inches apart so she crossed her arms and composed herself. "Was that for my benefit?"

"You're the one who couldn't take your eyes off me," he chuckled and smoothly spun on the spot, flashing another winning grin. "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful." Marcel stroked the side of his face and laughed again.

Even she couldn't help but smile. "Does this whole bravado work for you? You sing one song, throw a couple of dance moves and think my pride and panties will disappear?" she poked at his chest and tried to push him away. He remained still.

"Big talk. How about you get up there and show me how it's done?" Marcel retorted.

She shook her head. "Over my dead body"

He moved in, wiggled his brows suggestively and took another step closer. "That can be arranged"

"Ew necrophilia innuendo?" this time more exertion was placed in pushing him back. She turned towards the bar, knowing he would follow suit. "I'm gonna need another drink if you want me to laugh at your jokes" she called and leaned against the bar and ordered a refill.

It seemed they were skipping the unnecessary 'vampire' talk.

Once their orders arrived, Marcel placed a hand on the small of her back and nodded towards a secluded booth at the back. "I'm not big on sharing so why don't we go somewhere more private" he whispered into her ear. Undeniable lust in his hooded gaze and breathy voice.

"Sounds good"

He led her through the dancing bodies and they stepped into a more private setting. He slid in one side and she took her cue by going on the other. They faced each other, drinks before them and a questionable silence between them.

"Never seen you before" he commented, obviously trying to read whether she was a threat.

"And you know every vampire?"

He shrugged and sipped his gin and tonic. "Every vampire in New Orleans"

She peeked up from under her lashes. "One of your royal responsibilities, I'm sure"

Marcel froze but smiled for composure. He brought his hands up onto the table and linked his fingers together. "Well, you see now I'm feeling a little disadvantaged because I don't know who you are"

Her finger traced the rim of the glass and she hummed. "Uneasy lies the head…"

He chuckled but there was something off about it. She understood when his eyes narrowed into slits. Suddenly, she was on her back on the table and her chest pinned down.

"What is this?" she hissed and kicked her legs.

Marcel spoke, the amusement still evident. "Consider this the welcome committee"

The two henchmen were on either side of her. Both holding her down but Jerry seemed to be struggling more. She took that as her opportunity and waited for the slightest ease. Wriggling out of his grasp, she took her turn by forcibly grabbing his hair and slammed it on the hard wood. Before Diego could retaliate, she snapped his neck and both slumped onto the floor beneath them.

Marcel tried to remain calm but she could tell his interest was piqued.

Still she remained guarded and only then noticed the silence. Eyes darting around, she found that everyone in the bar was frozen, gaping at what had just happened. More of Marcel's minions were about to charge at her when the king rose his hand and stopped them.

"I make it my business to know the strangers in my town and their intentions. You can never be too careful" he reasoned. "So tell me, who are you and what are you doing in _my_ town?"

"Good cop, bad cop?" she rasped but her voice was void of whatever joy she had before. "At least bring out the handcuffs" she added, twisting her wrists and smirking.

Marcel's expression darkened. "I don't like to repeat myself"

"All work and no play…" she tutted but sighed and held out her hand. "Amelia" she answered truthfully but when he didn't accept her, she dropped the hand and shrugged. "I apologize if I wasn't forthcoming about the fact that I came to here to nurse a broken heart" she embellished and even played it up with a tearful unwavering gaze and anger burning in each seethed word.

She didn't know if he believed her. Fortunately, they were interrupted with the sound of whispered footsteps preceding the closing shut. "Hope I'm not interrupting"

She knew that voice.

Slowly, she turned to find the real reason to her arrival in the French quarter.

Niklaus Mikaelson.


End file.
